The First Anniversary
by Kara
Summary: Amy watches over her daughter and Michael, on the first anniversary of Michael's independence.


The First Anniversary   
By Kara (AnyaLindir@aol.com)  
  
Disclaimer: None of these people belong to me. I can only wish they did. They belong to the gods who are Jason Katims, the WB, and Melinda Metz.   
Spoilers: Through season one  
Summary: One year after Michael finds his independence, Amy DeLuca again finds him in her daughter's bed  
Rating: PGish  
  
Amy DeLuca stopped outside her daughter's door, not sure if she wanted to peek in. She'd heard crying again--a quiet sobbing that sounded like someone was waking up from a nightmare. Maria used to cry in her sleep when she was smaller, but she hadn't in a long time. This past year though, from time to time, she'd heard crying coming from the small bedroom at the end of the hall.   
  
It had been a long year. Jim had proposed three nights ago, on Valentine's Day. And again, she'd said no. Not because of Maria. Not because of Kyle. Maybe, when their children were out of the house, she could think seriously about Jim Valenti and how he touched parts of her that hadn't seen loving in a long time. But not now, not when something like that could change her already strained relationship with her daughter.   
  
But her daughter was seventeen now. And she still wasn't pregnant. One more year, and Maria would beat her mother's record. Amy got down on her knees every night and prayed, remembering what it had been like only half a lifetime ago. Had it already been seventeen years? She was thirty-five, and her daughter was capable of making her a grandmother. She was thirty-five, and her daughter was thinking of almost what colleges she wanted to apply to in the fall.   
  
The first year of a steady boyfriend. Michael Guerin had come around. He'd come around several times. He'd gone away quite a few times too. Amy hated to say it, but she was almost glad when her daughter fought with her boyfriend. It meant sleeping better for a few nights, and not having to worry about a daughter she'd put on the pill as soon as her fifteenth birthday hit. It was a few nights when she would actually be able to peak into her daughter's room, and find only one head resting on the blue cloud-print pillows.   
  
It had been a long year for all of them.   
  
Amy DeLuca leaned up against the door, listening to the soft sounds of breathing that came from the room within. The crying had stopped. When was the last time her daughter had turned to her with her tears? Maria had become so serious, so solitary. She and Liz and Alex had always been close, but now the bonds between the three were almost tangible. And when Max and Isabel Evans, and Michael were added to the mix, the product became almost explosive. Something...otherworldly had drawn the six together. Neither her psychic nor her accupuncturist could figure it out. Her aromatherapist had always said that Maria had an old soul. And it's true--her daughter had grown up way too fast for her age. Maria was Amy's mother as much as Amy was Maria's. It was fun, having a daughter who was more like a best friend, but scary at the same time.   
  
But there was only one year left.   
  
One more year, and her daughter would be in college. One more year, and Maria would have the tools necessary to provide for herself. One more year, and Amy could start to live for herself again--could finish being the scared seventeen year old clutching the pregnancy test, wondering what her parents would do if they found out. At least Michael seemed like the kind of boy who would stay when he was needed. When he grew up, he would make a fine husband and father, for all the horrible non-upbringing he'd had. He was becoming a fine man--just as Jim Valenti had.   
  
Philip Evans had told her what happened to Michael. Philip, who had been the savior who sprung her from jail on account of the fact that she had a little baby at home seventeen years ago, had told her bits and pieces of the story that Michael had told him--the same story she'd feared for her own baby girl. She often wondered if that's what would have happened to her Maria, her only reason for living, if she had given Maria up. Or if Maria would have become like Max and Isabel Evans, living in a good home with a whole family. But life was a crap shoot. And Maria was finally cashing in. Amy didn't know what she did to deserve such a wonderful daughter, but she would treasure the precious gift as long as she could, until Michael took Maria away.   
  
Amy opened the door slowly, tiptoed into the room, and wasn't surprised to see a spiky brown head lying beside her daughter's golden one on the pillow. This time, her daughter wasn't asleep half on top of Michael. She was curled protectively in the circle of his arms, a stuffed golden bear snuggled under her chin. And on the sharp-chiselled cheeks of Michael's face, Amy could see the faintest tracks of tears sparkling in the light from the hallway.   
  
She leaned down, kissing the round dimpled cheek that she'd loved since they were babies together, and then lightly brushed her lips against the wet cheek that lay on the other side of the pillow. The dark-lashed eyes fluttered briefly, and for a moment, there was a smile on Michael Guerin's face.   
  
"Happy Anniversary," Amy whispered to the sleeping pair. One night a year, she'd allow a slumber party. One night a year for the next thousand years, for the two children who'd managed to save each other.   
  



End file.
